


Drowning in the Jaws of War

by Bokutie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha!Keith, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blade of Mamora son!Keith, Blood, Galra!Keith, Gore, Human!Lance, M/M, Prosthetic Arm, Space Pirate!Lance, klangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-11 15:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10467723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bokutie/pseuds/Bokutie
Summary: Lance had grown up to know that life wasn't always easy; while Keith had grown up in a place of warmth and love. And all Keith wanted was to smother Lance in that precious feeling forever.The space pirates keep stealing items that The Blade of Mamora are after and Keith and Lance keep meeting up in the worst possible situations. When Lance is hurt, and by himself years later. Keith sides with his instincts and brings Lance back home where he knows he can protect the reckless male.





	1. Mission Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is the fic I promised. The first chapter is kind of a flash back to when they were 12. The next chapter will be the more current events.

Lance's body lurched forward as he trudged through thick murky water. Words of complaint were spewed from his mouth like venom with every step forward as filthy water swished and squelched within his tightly bound black boots.

His baggy clothes were clinging to his tan body like a life line as he constantly pushed the offending wet material away to stop it from restricting his movements.

“This is such a pain—why didn't we just walk through the front door.”

“Lance—if you don't shut the hell up in the next few ticks. I'll shut you up myself”, muttered a deep rumble in front of him. 

When Lance looked forward to gaze at his father, he felt nothing but disgust. 

The large body in front of him filled up the small underground system they were sneaking through completely and blocked Lance's view of what was ahead of them. Leaving him blind to what could happen in the dark crowded sewer system.

Notched teeth and toxic green eyes greeted him with malice before they flicked away from his own deep ocean blue.

His 'father' had four large scarred arms, and a giant tail. He was a Maruvian from planet Denias. A planet filled with crocodile looking creatures who were often known for being malicious fighters and criminals.

Lance had to make sure he was paces behind the giant lizard to avoid having a direct hit from the swishing reptilian tail.

“Fine—but this is still the worst heist we have ever gone on”, he said regretfully as he ducked under a crumbling beam.

His father grunted in agreement and then shot out his hand to stop Lance with an angry growl. Air was punched from his lungs and forced into the air around him at the sudden hit.

“Those bastards are already here”, he hissed out without any remorse to his wheezing son.

His snake-like tongue slithered out for more vision that his other senses couldn't provide, and he continued to make noises of anger and distaste. 

Lance pulled back and rubbed his chest as he watched his father crouch low, like a predator ready to jump, to get a good look at whatever had caught his attention.

The brown-haired male's interest was also peaked and he easily maneuvered around the scaly tail, scarred arms, weapons and tattered clothes to get a good look at what was happening.

He already knew though, it was always the same after all. Whenever his father had that tone in his voice it was always the same exact people.

It was The Blade of Mamora.

Lance's bright blue eyes lit up in a stunning cerulean as he lugged his body around to look through the metal slits in the filtration gate to see the Blade's assassins cutting down Galra soldiers in serene silence. 

It was so bewitching to watch the armored members of the blade kill so skillfully. Purple blood was spilled before anyone in the room even had a chance to make a move or sound the alarms.

“Well my boy—it looks like its our time to shine”, came a deep sadistic purr from the creature beside him. “Go get the Cavaren, and I'll distract them”, his father ordered him while he pointed in the direction of their goal.

This wasn't the plan—yes he was supposed to grab the Caraven, but he was supposed to do it with his father. They weren't meant to split up.

Lance sighed tiredly as he was forced to look away from the bloody stage that he had front row seats to within the ships small sewer system. It seems like he had no choice in the matter.

Despite his worry he could feel the deep thrums inside himself that were tell-tale signs of excitement. The feeling danced and twirled through his blood at the chance to face the blade once again.

Lance's face rippled into an excited grin at the idea of another successful steal from the blade. It was always a pleasure to see their shoulders shake in anger as they cursed and muttered words of acid towards them. 

Even if they didn't have a plan, which was rare, he knew that they wouldn't fail. They never did.

Besides, the blade always had Lance jumpy at the small chance that he could see them without their silly masks on.

Before he could soak in the feeling of theft from such a prestigious group a little more, he heard his father's two upper arms grab the high bean above them, and then the sound of a crash when two large clawed feet kicked open the gate only to have the now crumpled metal gate fly right into a blade member sending them both crashing into a wall. 

A loud yell followed by an echoing roar filled his senses as his father became the best distraction he could be. Lance could see the way his father's towering body landed on and crushed one of the blade assassins while the gator tore his serrated silver blade through armor and flesh alike.

It almost looked like his father was trying to paint the floor with nothing but gore as his color palette.

Lance frowned and pulled up his bone jaw mask to cover his mouth and nose. In a rush, he tightened his galactic rifle strap to his chest and ran through the disgusting liquid that seemed to try and pull him deeper with every step. It was like running through tar. 

When he reached his designated exit that he remembered his father distinctly showing him on a tattered, oily, and food splattered map; he repeated the movement from his father earlier and kicked the metal gate out into the room.

Only not as hard.

The steel gate skidded and clattered only to hit the opposite wall in a loud bang.

Purple lights and familiar black walls were the first things to invade his senses when he jumped through the opening, out of the feculant water, and into the room. 

Cases from all over littered the expanse, and Lance looked around for the familiar color of baby blue that he remembered from an awful photograph. When he finally had his eyes on the gem; Lance could feel his cheeks shift up under the mask, and his eyes crinkle in delight.

That wasn't too hard he concluded.

There it was in all its glory was the Cavaren.

The gem was floating in one of the glass containers and it was almost too much for his human eyes to look upon. Smoking tendrils of white and blue filtered off of it like smog in what appeared to be a poisonous gas. 

Lance feared touching it when he imagined it disappearing or disintegrating within his calloused palms. But, he had a mission and the code he and his people lived by was 'you either die succeeding, or you don't come back at all'.

So, in a quick decision he shrugged off his messy stained blue shawl, and wrapped it around his hand and arm. Pulling his elbow and arm back as far as he could and crouching low, he allowed gravity to take hold as he swung at the glass with all his strength.

It cracked and splintered before it rained down all over the floor in a flood of purple shimmers and crystal clear matter.

Lance grunted in satisfaction as a couple pieces stuck to his clothing. 

He unwrapped the shawl from his hand and threw the rag to the ground haphazardly. His mask made a clicking sound as he reached to grab the gem with a gloved hand. 

The beautiful blue quintessence seemed to cling and wrap around his arm in pleasure at finally having the company of something living instead of four glass walls. Lance, however, could feel nothing but relief when it didn't fade away or break in his sweaty gloved fingers.

“Another one! Drop the Caraven space pirate, you don't know what your even holding”, yelled an all too familiar voice.

Oh yes, he had heard this voice a couple of times when he was allowed on missions with his father. 

It was Keith.

Lance of course, was only the ripe age of 12 currently, but if that didn't stop the pirates from bringing children it wouldn't stop the blade either. Keith may have been a year older, but that wasn't going to stop Lance from beating him at his own game.

Damn the Blade of Mamora for always getting in their way of foiling Zarkon.

“Awe Keith? What's wrong—you lost and can't find your daddy?” Lance snickered as he stuck the gem in a pouch on his waist and proceeded to roll away to avoid the blade that was aimed for his carotid artery when Keith lunged with a sinister snarl.

Lance swiped his foot out under Keith, only to have the agile galra leap over it with cat-like agility.

The black and purple edge once again got too close for comfort and Lance found himself stumbling back with a shout as it swiped right in front of his eyes in a violet streak.

His body was forced to tumble backwards and before he knew it, the taller armored alien was dashing at him in a full sprint.

Lance's eyes hardened and when Keith was close enough he grabbed one of his defensive knives on his belt and blocked the slashes to the best of his abilities.

Lance was never one for hand-to-hand combat. He liked to linger at a safe distance away and study; his gaze like a predatory lion waiting for a chance to strike prey that was falling behind.

Only his weapon of choice wasn't claws and teeth, no, it was a galactic rifle. A custom built one that his adoptive mother had gotten him on his first mission out with his father.

And god, did Lance love the feeling it gave him when the bullets tore through the barrel and into the flesh of an unsuspecting victim. The kickback to his shoulder was a welcoming throb as he released bullet after bullet.

He could officially say that was probably the only thing he had in common with The Blade of Mamora. Lance didn't like his enemies suffering longer than necessary, and the blade made sure that every death was done without too much pain. 

But, the pirate group he was a part of was different. 

They laughed maniacally in the bloodshed of their enemies, and savored the screams that they tortured out of their victims. They loved to be coated in the sea of blues and purples.

Lance found that sickening though, and just plain awful. It was always so grotesque to him. Maybe that was why he had never really gotten along with any other member of his father's crew.

The tan space pirate's eyes widened when Keith's blade had managed to tear past his defenses and slice an unhealthy cut through the flesh of his eyebrow. He was going to need stitches and there was no way he was going to escape without a scar even if he had them.

All too quickly he saw, rather than felt, the crimson blood trail flow down the right side of his face and over his white bone mask and the many serrated teeth it had. Blood began to drip onto one of the very few shirts he had, and his heart seemed to stop.

Fury filled him quickly like an empty wine glass that was just begging to be filled, and nothing could stop him from acting on that feeling now.

“You asshole! You cut my face!!” Lance hissed in fury as he used his blade to knock Keith's out of his hand and lunge at the assassin in a bear hug.

“I wouldn't have had to do that if you had just given me the god damn gem Lance”, Keith growled as he fell to the tiled floor in a pile of limbs and awful punches.

Rough-housing commenced as they both continued to roll, hit, scratch and tear at anything that was within their grasp.

It was Lance who had finally relented to wheeze in air when Keith had straddled his thighs and pinned two tan limbs on both sides of his head.

Blue eyes crackled with fury, as a stone cold mask lowered close to his face to light up his complexion is purple, and a cocky voice filled the air.

The next taunt that sounded through the air did nothing to calm the pirate's buzzed nerves.

“Who's in need of their daddy now pirate?”

Lance, without thought, took that momentary chance to collide his forehead into where he supposed the others nose was. But, all he had succeeded in doing was having the mask drop onto his chest with a small thump, and pain shooting through his brain.

He threw his head back and whined when his skull began to throb in complaint from his idiocy. Even Keith's chest was rumbling in pain as he looked down to the mask and then right up at Lance in renewed anger.

“You fucking dick—why the hell would you do that?!” Keith practically screeched.

The brown-haired male had yet to move, or even make a reaction as his eyes widened once he had looked back in complete and utter shock.

Locks of black had shadowed most of Lance's face due to the other hovering over him, but Keith knew a blush when he saw one.

Red was quickly leaking into the tan skin, to form a dark red and it pulled a pleased purr from his chest.

Lance, on the other hand, swore that his heart had shriveled up and was currently writing a death note within his chest somewhere. Or perhaps his stomach? The butterflies were practically shooting around currently there.

Keith, despite being one of the aliens that he hated beyond belief, was stunning. 

He had the softest looking dark purple ears that flicked backwards in annoyance, and his eyes were the colors of sunflowers, the sclera was a light yellow, and then the iris itself was a darker shade of lemon.

His fur, like every other Galra, was a beautiful shade of mauve, the only difference from other Galras was the rugged scar that ran down across his left eye in a light shade of violet.

And to pull all the beauty together in a perfect package, was the messy mullet that surrounded Lance like a cape.

Oh shit, he was so not going to survive this, and not because Keith had a blade pressed to his bared throat.

Lance only grunted and closed his eyes as he decided now was a good time as any to make his peace with the world.

So, he had yet to live to the golden age of a pirate, and was going to die at the age of 12? So what. At least he had finally gotten to see what was under one of the blade member's masks. Especially Keith who he had countless encounters with.

Lance felt his impatience draw thin though when they were both sitting there minutes later in complete silence in the same exact spot as before.

“Aren't you gonna like, drag that across my throat and like...take the Caraven?”

Keith growled and flashed his impressive canines when he barked out his next order, “shut up!”

Lance, doing as he was told because he currently had a blade to his neck, nodded slowly.

The galra continued to stay very still though before he breathed out a heavy sigh and released his hands that were pining Lance's arms to grab his mask and click it back into place. 

He pulled his hood back over his hair and began to pat Lance down.

The brown-haired male knew that now was a good time as any to get away and join his father, but something stopped him from moving. He couldn't quite put his tongue on the feeling either.

Keith grumbled before moving the four purple orbs to Lance's still-stunned face.

“Where is it?”

“Right pouch”, Lance murmured as he layed there paralyzed.

Gloved hands patted the spot and Keith growled low when he felt nothing.

“Lance this isn't funny. You have thirty seconds to tell me where the quiznack it is before the rest of the blade shows up.”

Lance's eyes widened and that's when he finally shot up to begin checking all over himself. Dread was flooding through his veins like a deadly toxin.

“No—no no no no. Oh no, this can't be happening!” Lance stopped and grabbed onto Keith's shoulders only to shake them roughly. 

“I swear it was in my pocket Keith! I don't know where it is—shit my dad is going to kill me”, Lance cried out in horror before he went back to patting himself down and opening every pouch.

Keith's heart was pounding and to shut the pirate up, he slapped his palm over Lance's mouth.

“Shut up—it doesn't matter anymore. I don't care. We are out of time anyways.”

Lance was hefted up easily and he floundered in the princess-like hold before staying still as Keith rushed over to the open vent. None to carefully, he was pulling the small tan body up and helping Lance into the vent roughly.

“I'm sorry Lance—I'm really sorry. Forget the Caraven and get the hell out of here!”

Lance was hesitating as he looked at Keith in confusion. Why the hell was he apologizing?

Before he could question the black and violet armored galra though, the other was rushing over to the broken case and pretending to inspect it for any clues he might have 'missed'. 

The doors hissed open, and a group dressed like Keith moved in silence towards the smallest of them all. They all had small injuries and cuts in their armor that showed bloody dark purple.

“Keith”, spoke a deep comforting voice from a large galra that trotted over to the smaller male and inspected him with touchy hands and loving caresses in search of wounds. “Don't ever run off like that again. I was worried.”

Keith pushed at the hands and mumbled out 'I'm fine' continuous times when the touching didn't cease.

Lance felt his gut twist at the scene, as if it was forbidden of him to view the group as anything but malicious and horrible instead of warm and happy.

“Thace—c'mon. Dad please” Keith pleaded until Thace was finally pulling away and standing up tall instead of bent.

“Ahem—okay then. Good. What happened to the gem; do you have it?”

Keith visibly wilted, before looking from the shattered glass up to the tall adult galra.

“It was gone when I got here. I think the pirate from earlier was just a distraction, he had to have someone else otherwise he wouldn't have attacked so blindly.”

Antok was the first to mutter words of anger and distaste before he crossed his arms and said something that made Lance freeze in shock and dread.

“Well—we won't be having to deal with that other pirate ever again. It took four of us, but Thace managed to get a clean cut in”, he motioned as he drew his thumb across his neck to emphasize what had happened.

Keith wilted at the information he had already gathered from their linked intercoms and he looked to the floor. Thace once again began to fret and tell Keith that it was fine to cheer the other up. Little did he know that Keith had other reasons for looking so down.

That's why he had apologized.

Lance couldn't stay and listen anymore—no, he couldn't stay and watch his father's killers act all happy and content like a family when he had just lost part of what little he had left.

His legs carried him through the filthy water, and he couldn't tell how far he ran but he knew it was a good way away from the Blade of Mamora when he felt his slim thighs burn in exertion.

How could he go back and face his mother, the rest of the crew, and everyone else when he had failed to protect their captain? How could he look them in the eye.

Lance didn't realize his chest was glowing a bright blue, like the warming glow of a light house, as he ran towards their space craft. 

His bone mask had never felt more suffocating than ever as he choked on sobs and whimpers.

He couldn't count how many times he had fallen into the water before he finally arrived to the familiar pod. Quickly, he mushed his hand to the recognition pad.

The door slid open, and he smoothly slipped into the pilot's seat where he began to flip switch after switch to start up the ship.

He never liked the man that was his adoptive father, but that didn't stop him from being grateful to the large creature for taking him in when no one else would. He wasn't exactly a kid that a family would want.

Despite his malice towards his adoptive father, he had never wanted the other to die.

Lance sniffled as the door slid shut and the pod gained lift from the ground.

As he skillfully moved the steering grips to maneuver the pod out of the dome and through a small opening, he felt nothing but anger and sadness fill his mouth and mind with bitterness.

The blade.

This was all the Blade's fault.


	2. God, he hated him so much.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hated Keith, how good the other was with a blade, the way he was loved, how he had so much respect aimed at him, the way he cared for anyone even if they were an enemy, how he wanted to apologize and fix what he had done to Lance, and just everything about the galra assassin as a whole. 
> 
> God, he wanted to hate him so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey--wow uh this took awhile because I wasn't sure which direction I wanted to take, but it is here!! Amazinggggg!!!!
> 
> It took my friend yelling at me to finally publish this chapter because I was gonna rewrite it again, but I'm gonna trust her and just throw this out there :')!!

You live and die by your choices. 

This was something that every pirate should know by heart. And Lance practically had it engraved on his very soul.

His past was simply another chapter in a book filled with stories of riches, mistakes, death and many new beginnings.

Every choice he has made was another page in that book.

When he had returned from the mission where he had lost his father as a child, he wasn't welcomed with open arms and cheeky rotten-toothed smiles like he usually was. 

No, he was met with disgust, hate, and worst of all. Disappointment.

“Cap shoulda brought along someone more suitable! That boy don't even have any ssskills. No wonder he died”, he remembered one of the crew mates hissing out when Lance had stumbled into the arms of one of the three people that mattered to him in tears.

“There's no point to having a dog that don't have no uses”, the voice whispered with malcontent as a gun was pointed right in his direction.

Even now, he could still remember the way his mother carded her fingers through his hair in an act meant to soothe and comfort. But, all it did was give him more feelings that he didn't know how to deal with. 

How could she be so strong when the vice captain was turning against them so easy? 

His adoptive mother was the captain's wife though. She was the one who cooked for them all, made sure they had homes, and cleaned their wounds. She was what balanced them; but his father was the one that kept things in order.

As caring as she was though, that did not mean that she wasn't strong. Fluriditi, his mother, was a force of nature. She was not one you messed with, and most importantly you did not threaten her children.

“You dare point that gun at the captain's son and wife”, she grounded out as she moved with horrifying speed for her size. She gently shoved Lance behind her back in protection and her large clawed hand reached out with no forgiveness as he eyes flashed.

Rows of serrated teeth flashed in the light of the moon as she growled.

Creaking and crunching followed as the barrel of the gun collapsed under the pressure of her clawed hand, and suddenly the angry grumbles from around them ceased.

The vice captain dropped the weapon and backed away before he kneeled and began pleading for forgiveness. Others followed his act by bowing beneath her sharp glowing gaze as she stood as tall as she could to intimidate while Lance clung to her leg with caked blood on his forehead.

If there was a roof—there would be no doubt that she would have gone right through it.

It was decided at that point though: no one would touch Lance.

However, when word of his father's death traveled like the black plague across the large expanse of the ship and the pirate breeding grounds; it was too late.

People went for his adoptive father's hat, no his crown with no remorse. Everyone wanted to be king.

“It's time Lance—we are leaving. It is safe here no longer, and take everything you love--we will never be coming back”, he remembered her strict words as she picked him up and placed him on her shoulder where he clung to it like a life-line.

They weren't alone though. Many people worshiped his mother's views, and they even came with them when they split off from the fleet in a medium-sized warship. 

Lance's smile split into a grin when he remembered what he had told her when they were all healed and whole as a newly formed pirate crew.

“You really know how to make a silver spoon from a plastic one Fluriditi.”

“That's mother to you boy”, she hissed out in a teasing manner as she bent low to look him in the eyes, “and yes—yes I do.”

Truly, she was a beauty for such a barbaric race he thought as he gazed into the sunset in her orange and yellow gator eyes.

Hunk, one of his best friends on the fleet was the first to follow behind them though. They were inseparable ever since Lance was brought onto the ship as a child 2 years younger than him.

He would toddle after Hunk, and even sneak into his hangar at night to snuggle and sleep beside him. That never changed as time passed them by.

It continued with age where the two men would basically breath the same air as the other. They would only separate when missions forced them to do so.

But, when Lance had lost a father for the second time; it all changed. 

He became obsessive with the Blade of Mamora, and he foiled them anyway he could.

Hunk was now the follower as he struggled to fill the deep footprints that Lance left in his sad destructive wake. The small brown-haired boy's mother was no different as she thought the same thing.

She knew that Lance was different. Some part of him was broken and beaten, and not even a healing pod and love could fill the many tatters that made him up now. 

But, god if she didn't try.

She made the ship their home anyway she knew how. They were still pirates, and the missions never stopped. But, now she took more care for every single member like they were all her children; not just Lance.

She trained their crew on how to deal with not only the Galra, but the assassins as well. And Lance had become more efficient than any other member of the crew as he excelled in not only hand to hand combat, but with his sniper as well.

They would call him the sharpshooter, and that was not only to fuel his ego, but because he truly never missed.

Lance, despite the grudges and hate that filled his soul, never killed. He still didn't like death, and the crew agreed wholeheartedly so they didn't kill either. 

They would fight not to murder, but to foil and destroy.

They were space pirates with bleeding hearts some would say.

“Lance—where the hell are you boy”, his mother screamed and he felt it reverberate through the metal of the ship.

His tan face crackled into something of joy as his mother's frame barreled into the large expanse of the dining room. That didn't stop him from swirling the beer in his hands though.

She was followed by a couple others who walked past her steamy frame casually to join Lance at the bar.

Hunk was the first out of the other three to slide as smoothly as he could on one of the stools, his tail moving happily. Balmeran hands reached out swiftly to pull the drink out of Lance's hand.

“Awe—Hunk no c'mon! I was drinking that”, he whined as he struggled to get his cheap beer back from the earthy hands of his best friend.

Only a very high feminine voice broke in to silence them all as one of his adoptive siblings slipped into a seat.

“And here he is. Our lovely vice captain drinking before the day even starts”, she rumbled and her short leafy hair shook with mirth.

She was a species off the planet Kahn. It was a place that was filled with people who were made from plants. 

They had saved her race from the galra, but not before one of Zarkon's commanders had managed to imprison and slaughter her immediate family.

Lance had told her, that if she wanted; she could join their crew and do whatever she wanted when they found the galra that killed her family.

She did not even hesitate as she grabbed his tan hand and nodded her head solemnly while her smaller green fingers clenched tightly and tears welled up in her eyes. Lance had only responded with a bone-crushing hug before she melted with broken noises in his arms.

And over the years, she had adopted the pirate lifestyle as she grew. Lana had taken in Lance's bleeding heart like it was her own. 

Even as revenge driven as they all knew she was, their was no doubt that she would not kill her family's murderer. She would probably just hurt him as much as he hurt her.

“Okay—if you knew the mission I have in an hour you would be here drinking too sprout.”

“Lana! You know I hate that nickname! Besides I'm older than your stupid human ass”, she sputtered out as she grabbed the drink from Hunk's hand and chugged it.

Lance's face went pale as he looked at the empty glass that was slammed in front of him.

“Lana—you hurt me”, he said sadly as he sagged across the counter and gave her sad puppy eyes. 

“So not cute!!”

A shrill laugh danced around the room followed by a deep one and Lance found himself looking back to glare at the two who were laughing.

There was the last two of his immediate family members turned into pirates.

Only these two were ones that his mother had taken in; not him.

One of them was a male from the planet Luvine, which was filled with technically advanced scientists who saw knowledge as everything, and the other was a very small child from the planet Orvo, who had the strength of over 100 men.

They had chosen this life, and Lance was happy to have them.

“Yeah yeah. Save your laughter for when I get back with the Omnivert”, he grumbled before he twirled to look at his mother's four crossed arms.

“Lance...”, she whispered and everyone went silent as they turned to face her, “you know I trust you when you make your own missions now but, this is dangerous. I wouldn't send anyone after this....thing. It can start wars.”

The vice-captain easily got up and walked over to the female that towered over him with worry.

“Listen ma—it's a simple inside job. Nyma already gave me all the details and I'm just going in, grabbing it, and then walking out. Easy as that.”

She crouched down on all six of her limbs and looked him right in the eyes, and Lance gave her a bright smile.

Slowly, she bumped her large head into his and rubbed, “that's what your father said on his last mission. If you go then you run at the first sign of danger—you hear me boy. Or I will stick you in a black hole where you will never see the light of day.”

Lance swallowed thickly as he accepted her affection and rubbed his face against hers. He may have not been the same species, but he knew that this one motion meant so much to his mother. 

Lance had no doubt that she would do that to him. She was always overprotective of her children after all. Her species was known for that.

“I'll keep in touch and don't worry about it. They don't call me the sharpshooter for nothing.”

Hunk moved out of his chair and clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

“You better keep in touch or I'll help her.”

–

He wished he had done things a little differently now that he was actually in this situation.

Blood was gushing from the stump that was originally his right arm, and his left hand was doing little to hold back the steady flow that was hitting the floor with loud dripping noises.

A laser had hit him in his torso in his shock, and at this point he didn't know which one to apply pressure too.

His wide azule eyes watched the crimson fall from his body only to be consumed by the slowly enlarging red ocean beneath him. 

The human body contains so much blood, but actually seeing so much of it outside his body left him with only one thought. 

There's no way a person can bleed that much and not die instantaneously. It's impossible. It has to be.

The Blade of Mamora had arrived at the exact same time as him, and they were nothing if not unrelenting. But, what he hadn't seen coming was his stupid ideas and how his body moved before his mind could register what he was doing.

Once again, he had swiped a treasure from their hands and he was on the run with booming laughter. His body would twist and twirl as lasers skimmed past him, and blades missed.

The Blade had been a problem at first, but the noise from his enjoyment had attracted sentinels from the Galra fleet, and soon enough there was basically an army in his way. 

But, it wasn't only his way they were in; it was the blade's too.

“God—Lance must you really laugh so loud and cause all this shit?! If you had just run while being silent we wouldn't be in this mess”, said an all too familiar voice as it tore through muscle and machinery with a glowing purple blade.

Lance had just finished shooting down a bot and rolling away from a blade member as he took in more of his surroundings while ignoring Keith. 

Bloody Galra calling him by his first name. “Sharpshooter! Do not act so friendly with me assassin.”

“Are you kidding me”, Keith screeched as he slammed a Galra's face into his knee and then dove for Lance where the two once again danced with violence.

Lance used his gun to block every cut aimed for a point that would bring him to his knees, but not kill him. 

Keith's family members were a bit away, but they continued to tear through Zarkon's forces to reach Lance and Keith.

They were smaller this time, and the only two he could recognize was Keith's father and Keith.

“Grab the Omnivert Keith—stop arguing with the pirate! He's not worth it”, yelled Thace as he jumped on a bot and slashed precisely.

Lance shoved the offending body out of his way when he had a chance and rolled away.

“Yeah Keith—listen to your dad and do your job sissy”, Lance teased with a playful grin as he backed away slowly.

“Shut up! I have known you since you were 12 Lance—you can't just dismiss me like that”, he yelled as he twirled his blade and moved to attack Lance's arm.

The pirate's face had quickly morphed into one of anger at that statement, and he grounded out a furious,“you killed my father—your entire organization did! I can do whatever the hell I want”, he yelled as he moved away from the taller alien.

Keith froze and his body halted in a defensive position. He certainly had not been expecting Lance to say something like that.

“He was killing my family Lance...we didn't have any other choice”, he whispered while he pulled his blade back.

Lance had halted too as war raged around him and sparks flew across the room from broken equipment and torn machinery.

If his blue eyes tried to look through the mask that Keith wore he was sure he would find piercing yellow looking right into his with regret.

And for some reason; that just made him ache even more.

“You lost some family members—but I lost everything”, Lance whispered as he starting twisting to take another run to the escape pods. There was no chance of making it to his hover craft now with a commander's crew closing in on them.

But, before he could make it any further a gloved hand was holding his sleeve in a death grip.

“Then tell me about it! Tell me everything—I can't help if you don't tell me anything! Stop laughing—why are you laughing?!”

Laughter was pouring from his mouth, and he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was this whole situation honestly. Out of the countless times they met over the years while Lance was trying to find himself again, he found himself rather thankful for the one constant in his life.

He found himself thankful for Keith—for being one of the reasons why he wanted to live and flourish in life.

Keith was his dream and his fantasy, and god how he wanted to turn him into his reality. But, if he did that his father's death would have been meaningless. If he forgave the the blade, it would be betrayal.

Lance slapped his hand away and he opened his mouth to yell at Keith and scream that there was nothing he could do unless he could raise the dead and give him the love of a father that he didn't have as a child, but he never had the chance to as the commander barreled towards them with a large blade. 

Who the hell would carry something so large, it served no purpose other than to weigh you down. There was no point to having something so big—that weapon was stupid he found himself thinking.

So so stupid.

Thace and some other members of the Blade were yelling at Keith to move in horror as the blade began to swing down when the commander had reached them. They were shoving and floundering like fish on dry land to reach him.

Keith's head had swiveled from his direction to face death incarnate, and Lance could see the small shiver dance through his rival's body.

He was positive that Keith was seeing his life flash before his eyes in that moment.

Witnessing this was like watching a horror film in slow motion as the knife got closer and closer to smaller galra's body.

He hated Keith, how good the other was with a blade, the way he was loved, how he had so much respect aimed at him, the way he cared for anyone even if they were an enemy, how he wanted to apologize and fix what he had done to Lance, and just everything about the galra assassin as a whole. 

God, he wanted to hate him so much.

But, it seems like it was not to be. Not matter how much wanting and praying that he did where he wished that a hatred would develop over time; it never did. 

Keith was so perfect, and Lance loved every mission he went on with the other where he would see him. The teasing, and the playfulness of every stolen item that he took from him.

A memory of his mother rippled through him and spurred him into action.

“Listen to me closely Lance”, she hissed while cupping his face between two fingers, “little boys run and run, but men—men stand. And you my precious child; are a man. So we will stand in the wake of your father's death and we will thrive.”

Lance grabbed Keith with all the strength he could, and he silently thanked the adrenaline humans had as he managed to shove the large galra out of the way and to the side. Keith lost his balance and fell out of the way of the falling blade, but not before Lance grabbed his blade.

Relief flooded his system when his hotheaded rival was falling into safety's loving arms and out of danger. 

In order to make sure that this was about to be a fair trade—a life for a life-- he was going to need it.

It had reverted back into a knife instead of a sword—but he could still make use of it. His torn arm hit the floor, and he swung up his other hand with the knife right into the Galra's chest.

The creature dropped his large sword and fell back to clutch at the blade with a howl of pain.  
Thace had finally broken free and had pounced the larger Galra with deadly intentions as he ripped out Keith's blade and delivered a killing blow.

A loud roar fell on his deaf ears as he glared at his limb on the floor. His stomach twisted sickly at the sight. Keith was on him almost immediately with insults while he ripped Lance's clothes apart and began applying them to the bloody stump.

“You idiot—Lance you dumb stupid fool! I was fine!!”

Lance struggled uselessly with the galra as he sobbed and whimpered at the tightening of fabric around his exposed flesh.

“Stop—stop, ouch Keith! No more”, he whispered as he tried to fight him with his single limb by pushing at the mamora mask, “it's happened once before—now stop! OW!”

Thace moved away from the commander and right to Keith where he too joined Keith with the fussing. His father quickly sheathed Keith's blade and his own before he assessed the wound.

“Dad—we have to take him back. I can't leave him here like this, and how would he even get back--he can't possibly pilot a ship in this condition! He could bleed out; Thace I'm-”, he was growling under his mouth and hissing out words in broken syllables as he ignored Lance's whining.

“Silence Keith! We can't take him back—he's not galra. Our leader would never allow it. The most we can do is patch him up and hope he makes it. I know this is hard but--”

His father didn't get a chance to finish as Keith shoved his body away roughly. 

Keith began to mutter out apologies to Lance as he pulled the other close so that they were chest to chest. He held Lance with one arm wrapped around his body and the with the other he pulled back his hood and tore off his mask only to throw it who knows where.  
Dark hair fluttered out around him, and his purple face was suddenly on full display.

Lance's eyes widened, and his face went as pink as it could with his pale tired complexion. Keith's canines were on full display as he continued to apologize.

It had been years since Lance had last saw Keith's face, and wow. The other had matured quite nicely for a galra. 

His head was pulled out of his thoughts though when Keith nuzzled the place where his shoulder met his neck.

Goosebumps danced across his skin and the hairs on the back of his neck stood in warning. Keith only clutched him tighter to avoid having him run like his instincts were screaming at him to do. 

Still he found the others warm breath to be a comfort on his neck while the rest of his body had chills from blood loss.

A rough tongue dragged across the spot, and he tensed up sharp at the wet sandpaper feeling that graced his tan skin. 

Lance was already beginning to sag lifelessly in his arms and not from the silky feeling that entered his gut but from the ache in his stump. 

Keith knew the other would kill him when he was better. But, first he had to heal. Lance couldn't die; he wouldn't allow it and there was only one way he could come to the blade.

A mating mark. All galra had one rule. You can't touch someones mate, and you can't deny them either. No matter what specie they were.

None too gently, Keith sunk his canines into the flesh of Lance's neck and bit down harshly enough for blood to rise. Lance writhed in pain and tried to push away before he finally just relaxed into the chest behind him. 

When Keith had let go, he looked at the mark closely and carefully before he pulled away and lifted Lance into his armored limbs where he snuggled the others face softly before looking at Thace.

“He's basically galra now--so can we go?”

His father glared at the blood around his adoptive son's mouth before he rumbled angrily. Most of the blade was standing in stunned silence before they finally began to move and take action. 

Thace sighed and moved to Keith to usher him forward, “I hope that won't be a regret later Keith”.

Lance interrupted Thace from the galra's arms and he spoke coldly and tiredly, “you bit me—you fucking asshole”, Lance laughed breathlessly before he went completely limp.

Keith's heart shuttered before he ran to their ship with such speed he could put a cheetah to shame.

“Making Lance my mate would never be a regret”, Keith yelled with each pounding step.

His father grabbed the tan limb on the floor before he took off after the other. 

They still had a chance of reattaching his limb with their advanced tech. And Thace had a feeling that Keith was going to want a mate that had two limbs. The rest of the blade falling closely behind while avoiding gunfire.

So Keith wouldn't regret it—but what about Lance? This could be a death warrant for his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a heart or tell me your thoughts,,,I would appreciate it. You can find me on any of my social medias!! They are all listed on my profile. Thank you for reading chapter 2!!
> 
> Fuck me/// I love Lance and I'm sorry I hurt him guys :(

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey!! Comment, Kudos, etc. are appreciated!! Let me know what you think :D!! If you want some answers, I'm more active on my tumblr @keiths-thighs <\--- so hit me up in my askbox.
> 
> I'll be adding italics to this fic tomorrow!!


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